


Fledglings

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25176634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Teelan cries for his parents, and Tyrea looks back at her final moments with her own mother.
Relationships: Tyrea & Teelan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Fledglings

**Author's Note:**

> takes place about a week after Tyrea rescues Teelan from the Fog King! 
> 
> mild spoilers for Tyrea's sidequest, i guess. there aren't any FC spoilers since this is pre-canon.

“You need to stop crying,” Tyrea says, staring up at the dusty ceiling beams. “I can’t get any sleep like this, you know. If you’re so frightened I’ll go patrol the area, alright? Those creatures shouldn’t be able to reach the shoulder— I _told_ you, I locked all the transporters.”

Teelan hasn't said much about what happened since she had carried him out of the capital, slung over her shoulder like a sack of flour. Most nights he whimpers and muffles his cries into the ratty old blanket she managed to find for him. On other nights, such as tonight, he sobs into his hands, loud enough that Tyrea can’t go back to sleep.

“… What is it, then?” Tyrea sits up, rubbing her face. The ground isn’t a very comfortable surface to sleep on, but there’s only one cot and at least there’s a roof over their heads. “Another bad dream?”

“Yeah…”

Tyrea has no idea what to say to that. Usually she’d just tell him to stop crying.

Her eyes quickly adjust to the dark. Teelan is sitting upright as well, knees pulled close to his chest and his arms tightly wrapped around himself. He looks so small, smaller than usual.

“I’m sorry,” Teelan says, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It— it was… um…”

Well, great, now she’s wide awake. Tyrea pushes herself over to sit with her back against the edge of the cot, at least so she doesn’t have to see the utterly miserable look on Teelan’s face. Something in her chest pulls taut, but she ignores it. He’s still sniffling.

“Nevermind that. I probably wouldn’t have gotten any sleep either way.” Damn it. How is she supposed to comfort a child? Why does she even feel obligated to do so? It’d be easier to go make good on her word and patrol outside for a while, just so she could assure him that none of those fog beasts have ventured out of the capital. But Teelan isn’t afraid of the beasts marching over in the middle of the night. Useless platitudes of comfort won’t do a thing to silence his crying.

“Can I tell you about it? My dream, I mean?”

“Why?”

She swears she could hear Teelan flinch. “… I don’t know. I thought… you’d be curious? Sorry, I just— I’ll try to go back to sleep.”

“No. If you want to tell me about it, then go ahead. I’m listening.”

Tyrea doesn’t want to hear about his nightmares. She already has plenty of her own.

“Okay,” Teelan takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Okay. I was with my mother and father. We lived in Dome Seven of Alcamoth’s residential district. It wasn’t much, really. My mother supported our family herself, since my father couldn’t find any reliable work… being a Homs, and all. Most of the time he stayed inside because we’d get funny looks if he went into the city. So, sometimes, when the sun would begin to set, the three of us would go to this one park near our house when no one else was around. We’d bring our dinner there if the weather was nice.”

Little braggart. The barb dulls at the tip of her tongue as soon as it sounded in her mind; Tyrea remains silent.

“A-Anyway, we were at that park together in my dream. I was… happy. But then— then a dark fog rolled across the grass, and when I turned to my mother, she— there was a _Telethia_ , and, and my father— and then I remembered everything. They’re, they’re gone. They’re gone.”

He’s crying all over again, shoulders heaving with his sobs. Tyrea stares straight ahead at crumbling brick and rotting wood.

She faintly remembers Yumea ordering her to stop crying. It was a very, very long time ago. _Cease your wailing, fledgling._ Those harsh lessons had stuck with her ever since, branded into layers beneath her skin. She should tell Teelan to stop crying. Nightmares are nightmares, but this is reality. Sobbing won’t get him anywhere. He could shed an entire sea of tears and that alone would never bring his parents back.

That thing within her, whatever it was, pulls taut again. This time it’s… painful, and she reflexively draws a fist up to her chest.

“Losing a parent isn’t easy,” she hears herself saying. “That pain will never fade. At best, it would leave only a scar.”

“… Did you lose your mother and father, too?”

“I’ve never had a father. Never wanted one, either.”

“O-Oh.”

“My mother, however…” _She_ would never come back. Melia had made certain of it, but no matter how hard she tries, Tyrea can’t seem to dredge up any resentment nor rage. What Melia did was a generous favor, really.

“Was she kind?”

 _Was she kind?_ Tyrea nearly laughs out loud.

“She acknowledged me.”

* * *

“Listen to me, Tyrea. There is something important you must hear. Close your mouth, that stupid look doesn’t suit you. Listen to me, I don’t know how much time I have left. Perhaps I should have revealed all this to you long ago. But you would never resent me for the truth, would you? Oh, my poor, wretched fledgling… the truth is, you never had a right to the throne. The blood of a Homs runs through your veins, you see.”

“F-First Consort?”

“Don’t call me that! Ugh… I’m sick of it all. I’m sick of this life… I don’t even know what I had wanted in the first place. I married Emperor Sorean out of duty and provided a son for him, but you are the only choice that was ever truly mine. The Bionite Order would have had you destroyed for your tainted blood! And I kept you safe beneath my wing all this time. Because you were _mine_ , my fledgling. Prince Kallian is my son in name alone. All his loyalties lie with his late Majesty and now Melia Antiqua; he didn’t even hesitate as he condemned me to this tower. But you… you are _my_ daughter, Tyrea.”

“I don’t… understand…”

“Simpleton! Does nothing but hot air flow between your ears?! You are… all I have left.”

“I—“

“The blood of the Homs will spare you from our fate. You alone must realize my dreams! Tyrea… I want you to destroy me. Once the Bionis has awakened and I have become a Telethia, kill me as swiftly as possible. This is my final order.”

“… Yes, Mother.”

“Good. Sit with me now, my daughter. I don’t want to be alone in my final hours.”

* * *

Tyrea flinches. Teelan had slid off the cot to sit beside her, hugging one of her arms. She has half a mind to pull herself away, but she can’t muster the energy to do so.

“I really am sorry,” he whispers. “For waking you up.”

Her own jaw is trembling, she realizes. She hasn’t cried in ages and she isn’t about to start now, but the pain is overwhelming, like she’d been dragged underwater too quickly by a massive weight. She can’t even remember what she’d been doing before she had found Teelan in Alcamoth. It was a great stretch of nothing, absolute nothing, lost in a fog of numbness ever since she bid her final farewell to Melia.

Oh, so that’s what it is. She’s not so numb anymore.

“If you need to cry, then cry,” she says. “I won’t tell you to be quiet anymore.”

“Big Sis… are you still planning to go back to Alcamoth?”

“Somebody needs to destroy that monster.”

“Please don’t,” Teelan whimpers, holding her arm so tightly she’s beginning to lose the sensation in the tips of her fingers. “I can’t lose anyone else. You’ll _die_ if you try to fight it alone, don’t you understand?”

But that’s exactly why she must. Tyrea looks away, so that Teelan won’t see her expression screw in pain.

“I need help with my research! I’m not smart enough to figure out what everything in that book means by myself, and I trust you more than anyone else. I know you said you’re better off fighting, but… please. Please. Don’t die, please, Big Sis, I don’t want to see you fly away just to die, so please…”

Yumea didn’t give her any orders to live. But she’s dead, and she’s never coming back. Tyrea still feels herself being dragged down, deeper and deeper, her mother’s voice nothing more a muffled ghost crying out somewhere far away. She can’t hear her anymore. That emptiness is a painful, excruciating thing, burning between those layers of lessons and memories of harsh words. But with that pain comes an unfamiliar liberation she isn’t even sure how to look at.

Her mother had taught her how to fly. Who will teach this fledgling?

“… I won’t die, Teelan. Promise. I’ll stay with you.”

Teelan’s grip loosens, exhaustion and relief washing through him all at once. The sky is already beginning to turn a dim blue outside with the first signs of dawn. They stay there together on the floor as Teelan succumbs to sleep, though Tyrea stays wide awake until the sun comes up.


End file.
